A Second Chance
by Military-SweetHeart
Summary: Meet Teddy. She's the great-granddaughter of Maria, one of Steve's best friends. And the secret love of Bucky. Or at least, she was, until Bucky fell to his "death" and Maria moved on. Now he's the Winter Soldier and his mission is to kill Captain America. Only, his curiosity is peaked when he sees Teddy with Steve, who looks very similar to Maria. Is this his second chance?
1. Prologue

_AN: Before you get mad and possibly throw things at me, let me apologize for being easily distracted by another story idea!_

_Secondly, if you haven't watched CA:TWS, don't read because there may be spoilers._

_Please read and enjoy!_

* * *

Prologue:

_"I-I don't understand. What are you trying to say Steve?"_

_"Bucky's dead, Maria. He's not coming back." Steve said, looking down at his hands in order to avoid the look of complete helplessness Maria would most likely show. She always knew how to make him feel guilty, even without really trying._

_"How? I saw you both...this morning...alive and well..." Maria said, her accent getting heavy as she fought back her flood of emotion. She so badly wanted to break down and cry, but knew that she had to be strong._

_"He fell off the train. I couldn't get to him in time." Steve admitted. He thought Maria would slap him, like she usually did when he or Bucky did something stupid and dangerous. Usually it was him getting slapped. Bucky would just get the cold shoulder for a few days. Well, he used to. He wouldn't be getting it anymore._

_"Don't blame yourself. Not your fault." Maria stated calmly, though she took in a shuddering breath. She lifted her head up high and blinked back her tears. She placed a hand on her waist and jutted out her hip, like she always did when she was determined to do something. Steve knew this look all too well. It meant Maria was gonna do something dangerous and possibly risk her life, yet again._

_"Maria-" He tried, but was cut off when she raised her hand._

_"No, Steve. I pilot the plane tonight over Germany." She said, her accent very apparent now. He could almost hear the Portuguese rolling off her tongue._

_"Maria, you don't have to." He tried again. "Peggy and the boys understand that you need time to grieve." But, his words were falling on deaf ears. Maria would have none of it. She had a job to do, and damnit, she was going to do it, or die trying. Just like Bucky._

_"No." She said._

_"You need time-"_

_"I said no!" She shouted. She rarely ever raised her voice at Steve. She was serious._

_"But-"_

_"I will grieve when the war is over. Not before and not during." She stated calmly, after taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. Steve opened his mouth to argue more, but snapped it close when he saw her eyebrow raise in defiance. That would be his only warning. He knew better than to argue with a Latina woman. Nothing good ever came from arguing with her. He swore she was a another version of Peggy, just from another country._

_"Fine." Steve said after awhile, finally allowing her to get his way. She nodded her thanks and turned around to get geared up for the next mission. Steve shook his head and turned the other way, pulling out a letter that was addressed to Maria. From Bucky. Something told Steve that she would never get the chance to read it. And that scared him. He couldn't lose another friend, not this soon._


	2. Chapter 1

_AN: Before you get mad and possibly throw things at me, let me apologize for being easily distracted by another story idea!_

_Secondly, if you haven't watched CA:TWS, don't read because there may be spoilers._

_Please read and enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter One: Death of a Friend

"Have a seat, Captain." Director Nick Fury stated, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. Steve sat down without question. He felt like Fury wasn't in the mood to be argued with. Fury sighed as he sat down in his own chair, rubbing his forehead like it was causing him pain. Steve looked around and noticed that Natasha was standing in the corner, arms crossed over her chest. She looked disinterest, but Steve knew better. He could see that underneath her mask, she looked slightly uncomfortable. And that wasn't a good thing.

"Why the meeting?" He asked, facing Fury. Fury leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped together on the desk. Something was up.

"Does the name Maria Costello ring a bell?" Fury asked. Steve's body became rigid as memories of his old childhood friend came flooding back to him.

"Capt?" Natasha asked, stepping forward to take the seat next to him. He nodded, taking a deep breath. Fury watched Steve's eyes and how they had glazed over at the mere mention of the name. Obviously, Steve knew who he was talking about.

"What about Maria?" He asked, though it sounded a little choked on his part. He cleared his throat and cleared the memories away.

"I don't know how to say this gently, so I'm gonna be straight forward with you. She's dead." Fury said. He stood up and picked up a thick manila file on his desk. He flipped through while Steve processed this new information. He had to admit. It was hard, he wasn't gonna lie.

"How?" He asked softly, clenching his fists. He should have known she wouldn't be around forever, but he had hoped. Just like with Peggy. He held onto the memories of them, thinking that maybe, just maybe, they would still be around. He should have known better than to hope. After all, he was no stranger to losing friends, so why should this be any different? Because this had been Maria, his best friend since elementary school. She had been his first friend, the one to always stand up for him. She had been the one to help him choose his future, always telling him that he was the one in control, not his parents, and not his country. Then, when he met Bucky, the three of them had been inseparable, even vowing to join a worthy cause. Maria as a pilot for the newly formed Air Force, Bucky in the Army, and Steve, later becoming the legendary Captain America. They had been the tightest friends, and had always remained that way. Even when Bucky had confined in Steve his secret love for Maria, nothing had changed.

Until Bucky died because Steve hadn't been fast enough.

Until Steve choose the world over seeing his friends again.

And now, Maria was dead. Guess he was the lonely musketeer.

"Heart attack. She was 82, Capt. None of us saw that coming." Fury said, setting the folder down in front of Steve as he sat down on the corner of his desk. Steve nodded, numbed with the realization that he was truly alone.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking up. What did Fury mean when he said that no one had seen her death coming? She had been 82, they all should've seen that coming.

"Maria was healthy. Healthiest she had ever been. When she had died, it had surprised everyone. Her family hadn't seen it coming." Fury explained.

"Family? She had a family?" Steve asked, looking confused.

"Yeah. After the war, she moved back to Brazil as a commercial pilot and had a family. A big one, from what I last heard. She's survived by her two children, her four grandchildren, and her eleven great grandchildren." Fury stated, whistling low after saying all that information. Even he hadn't known just how big her family had been. Steve chuckled and shook his head.

"She had always said she wanted a big family one day."

"The reason why I asked is because her great granddaughter, the one she was the closest with, has recently moved to D.C." Fury said, handing Steve the file. "Before you look through that, you might want to know a few things about Teddy."

"Teddy?" Steve asked. "Weird name for a girl."

"Her full name is Theodore Maria Costello. She's named after her great grandparents. Her parents thought it was a great way to honor them." Fury said, getting up to go look out his office window. He took a deep breath as he heard Steve open the file and flip through a few pictures. "You should know that Teddy looks exactly like a young Maria."

"You're not kidding." Steve said, looking at the picture of a smiling Teddy. She had her hand on her hip with her hip jutted out, just like Maria used to do. She was smiling widely, and he noted that her smile came out lopsided. He thought it fit nicely on her. She had bright, hazel eyes that sparkled with happiness. Her skin was a dark tan, native to her home, and her hair was a dark brown, like melted chocolate. All in all, she looked a lot like the Maria he remembered. He looked through a few more pictures, seeing a happy Teddy, a laughing Teddy, a Teddy flipping backwards through the air. He raised his eyebrows at that one. Natasha smirked when she saw it. She had read through Teddy's file already, so she knew what the Capt was about to see. "What is she doing?" Steve asked. Natasha was happy to answer him.

"Parkour. It's also called free running. You might want to research that when you get a chance."

"Right, I'll add that to my list." Steve said, pulling out a small notepad and quickly writing down 'free running'. He returned his notepad to its original place and went back to the file. The next picture he saw, shocked him. He saw Teddy, but he also saw not Teddy.

She was in a hospital bed, with wires and tubes connected to her. She had a bandage wrapped around the right side of her head, covering her right eye. Her left eye looked black and blue, like she had taken a few hits to it. Her arms were wrapped in bandages as well; the left one was completely wrapped from shoulder to hand, while the right was wrapped from her elbow down. Her legs looked bruised and her right ankle was in a cast. Overall, she looked like she had gone through hell and back.

"Teddy was kidnapped a year ago, a few days after burying her best friend." Fury said.

"What happened to her friend?"

"Teddy was visiting her friend in India for a school holiday. The two had gone to college together in New York, both studying law and music. Teddy was studying dance, Asa was studying painting. They had been walking through the streets when some crazy son of a bitch threw a bucket of hydrochloric acid into Asa's face. Teddy had watched her friend in pain before she attacked the person responsible. Natasha happened to be there to stop her from killing the man. If Teddy had been allowed to continue, she would have killed the man." Fury said, looking more tired than usual. Steve set the pictures of Teddy aside, flipping the ones of her injuries over so he wouldn't have to see what happened to her. He got a glimpse at the cut over her right eye. Instead, he looked through the medical report and was astonished that she had survived what she had.

"Teddy had flown home when she had been taken off the streets right in front of her home. Her mother reported her missing an hour later. She was held captive for 8 months and was repeatedly tortured and raped." Natasha said just Steve read through the report. He slammed it down and clenched the armrests of the chair. He was dangerously close to breaking them off.

"Why? Why was she kidnapped and why did this happen to her?" He demanded.

"Someone had seen me pull her off the man she was close to killing. They thought that she worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. and tortured her for secrets. She kept her mouth shut the entire time, didn't even utter a sound while she was with her kidnappers." Natasha said. So that's why she had looked uncomfortable. She had thought she had been responsible for Teddy's torture, when really she couldn't be blamed.

"And the men responsible?"

"Dead." Fury stated. He was waiting for Steve's next question.

"How?"

"Her Uncle-in-law just happens to be a very powerful drug lord in Rio. When he found out what they had done to her, he had the men hunted down like pigs and slaughtered them. Teddy still doesn't know."

"Is that why she's here? To get away from her "alive" kidnappers?" Steve asked, even using the air quotes. Natasha bit back a chuckle. That had been a hilarious sight. But this was not a time nor place for humor.

"No. Sources say she's here to speak with you, Captain."

"Me?" Steve asked, looking through the file again. There were a few more pictures of Teddy, only this time, her hair covered her right eye and her arms were covered with Henna tattoos that stretched across her scars, effectively hiding them. He could only guess that was why she had gotten them.

"Yes. Apparently Maria had told her stories about you and and everyone else during the war. She wants to talk to you and hear more about her great grandmother." Fury explained. Steve closed the file after putting everything back where it belonged. He still couldn't get the image of her lying in a hospital bed out of his mind. It was the resemblance to Maria that made it hard to bear.

"Well, I guess I shouldn't keep her waiting, should I? Where is she?" He asked, knowing Fury would already know the answer.

"She's at a coffee shop near the monument." Fury said as Steve walked out. He shared a look with Natasha, both unaware that someone was watching them and that they had heard the entire conversation.


	3. Chapter 2

_AN: Before you get mad and possibly throw things at me, let me apologize for being easily distracted by another story idea!_

_Secondly, if you haven't watched CA:TWS, don't read because there may be spoilers._

_Please read and enjoy!_

_AN: So you know, from now all the chapters will be in Teddy's p.o.v. If there are line breaks, those are in third person. Okay? Okay._

* * *

Chapter Two: Teddy Meets...  


The minute I sat down at my table, I could feel someone watching me. And not in the creepy, stalker kind of way. More like in the 'you're-new' kind of way. I didn't bother looking up from the file I was reading, used to these looks. I've been getting them since I arrived in D.C. Not to mention, my Uncle-in-law had hired some people to follow me around back in Rio.

Sorry, should probably introduce myself, huh? I'm Teddy, short for Theodore. Weird, I know. But I had no choice when it came to my name, so just deal with it, 'kay? Kay. I'm a paralegal assistant at a business firm. Meaning, I deal with whatever suits that are thrown their way. Sounds boring, and it can be when there's no work, but trust me, it can be interesting. Like right now. The file I'm currently reading involves a corporate hand selling a faulty product to an old customer. Sounds simple, but really, it's not.

This particular customer has never once made a claim like this before, and it's my job to find out why. Besides, gives me something to think about besides...well, that's a whole other story...I won't bore you with it. Not yet, at least.

"Hello. May I sit here?" I look up at the sound of a new voice. I'm not all that surprised to see Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, standing in front of me. He's wearing jeans, a grey t-shirt, and a brown, bomber jacket. I can see a bike a few feet away. How the hell did I not hear that thing? I mentally shake my head and nod, gesturing for him to sit down. Now, before you ask how I know him, it's another long story. Here's the short version: my great grandmother was his best female friend and she told me numerous stories about how her, Steve, and another man named Bucky, would get into trouble while they all lived in New York. Yeah, talk about cool.

Off topic, but he also happens to be the main reason why I'm even in this city, though the job is a good reason, too. It's just, after her death, I've been trying to learn more about my great grandmother. I figured I go see one of her old friends, the one that wasn't dead. It's quiet on the other side of the small coffee table, which I figured was normal. Maybe Steve didn't know who I was? I wouldn't be angry if he didn't, after all, it's not like Maria and him stayed in touch after his whole freezing into a popsicle.

"Excuse me, miss? Mind if I ask you a few questions?" Steve finally asks after a few moments of silence. I nod and set my file down, closing it just in case he gets curious.

"Certainly." I say, aware that my accent can be clearly heard. I give him a simple smile to show that I'm friendly, but not overly friendly. Someone once told me to hide my emotions when it came to strangers. After all, people in D.C. aren't as friendly as the people in Rio. I know from firsthand experience.

"I'm going to get straight to the point here, so I apologize if I sound rude or overbearing. But, are you the great granddaughter of Maria Costello?" He asks. Like he said, straight to the point. I nod and take a sip of my drink, stirring my strawberry lemonade around to mix it evenly. I could really go for a margarita right now, but as it's only 11 am, it might be a too little early to start drinking. Guess the lemonade will have to do, for now. Things can change.

"I assume you are Steve Rogers, then?" I ask in return.

"Yes ma'am." He says, giving me a polite smile. Huh, Maria said he had a hard time talking to woman, but that doesn't seem to be a problem. Could it be the resemblance between Maria and I? Probably.

"Alright. Are we gonna finish 20 questions?" I ask playfully, glancing around. I can feel eyes on me, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. I shook the feeling off, it was probably nothing. Then again...Nah...just my imagination.

"Why are you here?"

"For the drinks and friendly atmosphere." I say sarcastically.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then specify next time." I say, taking another drink. Steve shakes his head and chuckles.

"Same attitude, I see."

"I've always had this attitude."

"Smart mouth."

"Dumbass." I shoot back. Again, he chuckles, though this time it's longer and louder. I grin and grab my file, placing it in my bag. While I'm doing that, my sleeve moves a little, showing off my Henna tattoo that stretches all the way down to my middle finger. Steve notices but doesn't say anything. "Why are you here?" I ask, leaning back in my seat and crossing my right leg over my left. My posture gives the impression that I'm relaxed, but still in control. Exactly what I'm not going for, but hey. Fake it till ya make it!

"I was informed that you were in town and you were looking for me." He says, coming straight out with the truth.

"That's half the reason why I'm here."

"What's the other reason?"

"Work."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Imma a paralegal assistant." I say, my accent a little stronger than I wanted. Oh well.

"Where?" He asked, leaning back in his chair. He looks more relaxed, probably thinking that he could handle me should I turn out to be an enemy. Pfft, whatever. I didn't learn Parkour for 11 years for nothing.

"A large business firm. But I take it that's what you want to talk about, is it?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. If we were standing up, I would've put a hand on my hip to let him know I was serious.

"Your resemblance to her is amazing. It's like I've went back in time." Steve says more to himself than me. I feel an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, like someone is listening in to our conversation. I rub my shoulder as an excuse to tilt my head up and peer at the rooftops. I catch the smallest glint of sunshine off a metal, which is unusual because the building I see it coming from doesn't have any metal near the edges. I know, I've jumped and run across that building before.

"Maria told me stories about you and this other man, Bucky." I say, pulling Steve from his musings. He nods, though he looks uncomfortable the minute I say Bucky. Understandable. He probably still blames himself for his best friend's death. But I need to know more about Maria. So, I swallow my pity/empathy for him and charge forward. "I have this letter with me. Maria used to read it every night before see went to bed. I haven't read it, but I knew she would've wanted me to give it to you." I say, pulling out an aged letter that says 'Maria' on the front in slanted cursive. It's apparent that a man wrote it and in a haste, too. I set it on the table in front of him and get up, placing the money I owe for my drink down beside it. I grab my plastic cup and walk past Steve, patting his shoulder. I had made sure to slip a piece of paper underneath the letter. It has my address, email, and cell number on it. Just in case he wants to contact me correctly, instead of stalking me.

* * *

He watched the girl carefully, noting how she kept her hair positioned over her right eye. She walked with this fluidness and purpose, like she knew exactly what she was doing and how to do it. She even sat with purpose. He found this interesting. He also found her file interesting.

He had reported to Pierce with the new information that he had learned, and had been given another mission. Pierce wanted him to keep an eye on the girl, make sure she wasn't a threat to their plans. So far, he found her intriguing, but harmless.

And yet, there was just something about her that made him want to know more. Maybe it was the way she pretended to rub her shoulder in order to look around. He ducked away when her eyes looked at him. He had moved fast enough, but when he peeked another look before moving to the next building, he found that she was glaring at his spot. He raised an eyebrow at that. Could she have seen him? Impossible, yet, there was that small chance.

He watched her put a file away and pull something else out, something that looked older and gave him a twinge of pain in his heart. He shook the feeling off, thinking it nothing. He was emotionless, a cold hearted killer. He shouldn't be fazed by anything, especially not a piece of aged paper. He observed her slipping another piece of paper underneath the first one before paying and leaving. He jumped to the next building, following her with his eyes.


	4. Chapter 3

_AN: Before you get mad and possibly throw things at me, let me apologize for being easily distracted by another story idea!_

_Secondly, if you haven't watched CA:TWS, don't read because there may be spoilers._

_Please read and enjoy!_

_AN: So you know, from now all the chapters will be in Teddy's p.o.v. If there are line breaks, those are in third person. Okay? Okay._

* * *

Chapter Three: Oh Shit...!  


Someone had better be dead or dying. That would be the only excuse I will accept as to why someone is pounding on my door at 3 in the. Fucking. Morning. I growled under my breath and threw my warm sheets off of me and stormed towards my door. I actually thought of grabbing a book and smacking the person upside their head. But that would be abuse. To the book.

"Hold your horses, fucktard!" I shouted as the person kept banging on my door. I growled as I threw the locks and opened my door, glaring murderously at the person awkwardly standing there. They were tall, and definitely male. I took a minute to try and study the person before me, but they had most of their body turned away from me and were hiding under a large coat and hood. I rolled my eyes when they made a move to knock on the door again, only to hit empty air. "Door's open, dipshit." I said. Yeah, I'm not the nicest person when rudely woken up. Steve found that out the hard way a week after our first meeting. It was my day off and he and this red-headed bitch had almost broke my door down. Well, she isn't a bitch, but when you try to break my door down and wake me up at the same time, I get vicious.

"Oh, sorry." The mad said, his voice a little rough and husky. Most likely from being drunk. That was what I was going with.

"Is someone dead?"

"What?" He asked, not sure.

"Is someone dead?" I asked again, this time a little slower than usual. Maybe he had been hit in the head and that was why he was acting slow?

"No-"

"Is someone dying?"

"No-"

"Is the building on fire?"

"No, why-"

"Is the city going to be nuked?"

"What? No, why are-"

"Are there zombies roaming the streets?" I asked, smirking when the man shook his head and finally looked up at me. I saw he had shoulder length, brown hair (which was clean and that was important), and light brown eyes that looked tired and confused. He had stubble lining the lower half of his face, which made him very attractive. I'm tired, so sue me! He removed his hood and gave me a serious look, which let's be honest, never works on a tired woman.

"No. Why are you asking all these questions?" He finally asked. I shrugged and leaned against my door frame, arms crossed over my chest.

"Because those are the only reliable excuses for why you're pounding on my door at 3 a.m." I said, glaring coldly at the man. I don't care if he was attractive, he was costing me my precious sleep and that was a big no-no in my book. And yes, I did say precious in an imitation of Gollum's voice.

"Reliable?" He asked.

"Are you drunk?"

"No. What makes you think that?"

"Are you high?"

"Will you stop asking so many questions?" He said, his voice sounding annoyed. Whatever. Like I care if he's annoyed with me. It should really be the other way around, but right now I'm having too much fun annoying the shit out of him. I just may end up dead because I couldn't stop pressing this guy's buttons.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm having too much fun."

"Fun?"

"Yeah."

"You're getting on my nerves."

"So?"

"So, what if I'm a killer and this could make me snap?" He asked, smirking when he thought he had won. Pfft, as if.

"If you were a killer, you would've killed me already." I shot back, effectively wiping that smug smirk off of his face. He was silent as he tried to think of a comeback, and while he did that, I thought of whether or not I could fall back asleep. My answer was a big, fat NO. "Want some coffee?" I asked, turning around and heading towards my kitchen. I may live in an apartment, but it was a kick ass one. Full kitchen with a little breakfast nook that looked out over the bay, small dining room attachment, spacious living room with a small balcony, two bedrooms and two bathrooms. A master and a regular. Yeah, I had an awesome set-up goin' for me. Insert happy smiley face, or whatever face means elated joy/happiness.

"Did you just invite a random stranger into your home for coffee?" The man asked.

"Yeah, problem?" I asked, turning on my coffee machine and inserting a vanilla coffee cup before pressing brew. Keurig, a gift of the gods! Yes, I'm tired and now hyped up. This is normal for me.

"Not really. Coffee sounds good." He said, stepping inside and taking off his coat. I choked a little on my coffee, eying his robotic arm. "What?" He asked, before following my gaze and suddenly looking like a kicked puppy. He looked adorable like that, to be honest. Actually, anytime he frowned he looked like a kicked puppy. Hmm, interesting.

"Whoa..." I said, blinking and shaking my arm, before giving him a wicked grin. "Nice arm, looks pretty wicked." I said, my accent coming in strong.

"Thanks...?" He asked.

"No, that's a good thing."

"How so?"

"Because I have a similar thing. Well, not just one, two actually. Want to see?" I asked, cursing in my mind why I was showing a complete stranger my scars and tats. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with me? Two weeks of knowing Steve and I still haven't shown him, so what made this dude special?! Was it because he knew a little about what I had gone through?

"What are you talking about?" He asked. I moved around and sat at my little breakfast nook, patting the spot next to me. He hesitantly moved towards me before sitting down. He sat as far away from me as possible, probably thinking I was some kinda thought, or something.

"I don't have a bionic arm, like yourself, but I have something similar. Want to see?" I asked. He nodded slowly. I rolled up my sleeves all the way up to my shoulders and turned my arms up so that my wrists were facing him. I was glad that light had been turned on beforehand, which showed him the stark contrast of my skin paired with the black and blue ink. Traditional Henna tattoos only cover up a small part of the arm and hand, but mind stretched from my shoulders all the way down to my middle fingers. One scar went from the inside of my elbow to my wrist, while the other went from my shoulder and all the way down to the tip of my middle finger. There's a long story that goes to them, but I still wasn't able to think about the...incident...without shaking like a tree in a hurricane.

"Oh shit..." He said, staring straight at them like he had seen them before. Odd...


End file.
